Do You Know How To Make Sauce?
by LadyAjax
Summary: Calogero Anello and his wife Jane have been married for a little over 40 years. The following is my interpretation of the highs and lows of their relationship over the years, ever since they first starting dating as teenagers in 1968. I'm taking liberty with the original storyline and ending of 'A Bronx Tale' (Sonny isn't dead). All credit goes to brilliant Chazz Palminteri.
1. Chapter 1

**November 23rd 2018-Queens, New York**

"One day I was totally fine, I went to the store, grabbed a cup of coffee, went for a walk in the park with the missus, the usual. Next thing I know I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I just got hit by a Mack truck. My muscles are twitching and aching, I'm sweating buckets and shivering at the same time, and I couldn't keep anything down, my head must've been in the toilet for 2 hours. And don't even get me started on what was going on below that. I couldn't pass anything for days. . ."

Calogero Anello sighed through his nose and tried to hide his discomfort. All he meant to do was take out the trash, grab the mail, and go back in the house. He had barely tossed the bags in the trash can when his neighbor Mr. Adler cornered him by the fence. Calogero had never had a problem with David Adler. They had been neighbors for years. He was a nice guy with a pleasant sense of humor, he'd bring over Calogero's mail when it showed up in his mailbox on accident, and watched over the house when Calogero and his wife were out of town. But he was known throughout the neighborhood as "Motormouth Adler"; no matter what time of day it was or how much of a hurry you were in, the man would stop you and would talk to you about anything and everything, at any time in any place. Just last week the man had held up a line at the check-out counter at the corner drug store to talk about the New York Knicks.

Calogero liked the guy but he wasn't really interested in hearing about his neighbor's recent battle with influenza. He politely let the man on the other side of the fence finish his story before seeing his opportunity to make a hasty exit.

"Well it was nice talking to you, Adler. But I got to get back inside, my wife is gonna be home any minute and I'm supposed to be straightening up inside. If I don't finish before she gets back I'll never hear the end of it."

David Adler leaned on the fence and shifted his weight from his left food to his right foot. "Oh yeah, that's right. Your kids are coming to town this week for Thanksgiving dinner right? That's great buddy, you must be excited."

Calogero slowly started to back away from the fence, "Yeah, real excited, we've really been looking forward to it."

"That's nice, buddy. Real nice. You have such a beautiful family, you know that? How long have you and your life been married?"

Calogero was still facing the fence but slowly making his way back toward the front steps.

"Forty-three years, this last September," he said proudly.

"Wow, forty-three years! You know my missus and I have been together almost fifty years? Got married right out of high school, couldn't even drink at our own wedding, can you believe that! She insists on making a big Thanksgiving dinner this year too. I don't know why though, our kids can't make it to town this year. It's a real shame too, you know Bernice makes a brisket that's so tender…"

"David! I sent you to the store over an hour ago! Leave the poor man alone and bring me my tomatoes already, will you! Hi Calogero!"

Calogero was nearly to the steps now, he set his foot on the very bottom step and waved in the direction of the woman's voice. "Afternoon, Mrs. Adler! Listen, you folks take it easy, have a happy Thanksgiving!" He swiftly walked up the stairs, grabbed the mail out of the mailbox and slipped back inside. It had taken him exactly 45 minutes to take two trash bags to the curb and grab the mail.

_That's got to be some kind of record. _

He tossed the sales papers and circulars on the coffee table and sank down in his beloved recliner with a relieved sigh. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the silence, the only noise being the soft humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen. A few minutes passed by before he heard the back door open and close.

"Calogero? "

"I'm in the living room, honey."

"Could you give me a hand, please?"

Calogero got up from his chair and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed two of the grocery bags his wife was carrying and cleared some space on the counter. The kitchen counters were covered with various items and ingredients in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner.

"How did it go?", he asked his wife as he started helping her put things away.

"Pretty much like I expected; stuck in line behind a bunch of people who waited until the last minute to get ready for Thanksgiving." She handed Calogero a bag of tomatoes and another bag with green onions. "You should've went with me."

"Yeah, I should've. I got corned by your neighbor while taking out the trash."

"Yes, I saw David and his wife as I was coming up the driveway. You know that man is crazy about you, I hope you were nice."

"Of course I'm nice. Aren't I always nice?" He smirked as he got behind her and gave her a peck on the lips before helping her put away the rest of the groceries. At one point as he was putting the milk in the fridge, he stopped to watch her for a moment.

He and Jane Christina Williams-Anello had been together for nearly 50 years. She was his wife, his advisor, the mother of his children, and his very best friend. As he watched her bustle around the kitchen he knew in his heart that she was just as beautiful and stunning as the day he first saw her on his father's bus in 1968. Through years of happiness, sorrow, bitter break ups and heartfelt make ups, she was still as tall, beautiful and classy as ever.

"Calogero. Calogero, what are you doing? Close the door, you're letting all the cold air out the fridge!"

He blinked a few times and snapped out of his thoughts before closing the fridge door.

"What's the matter? You're not getting sick are you?"

"No honey, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm just excited about this dinner, that's all. It's been a long time since we've been altogether like this." He went to put his arm around her and admire her from up close. Jane smiled as she cupped his face in her hand.

"I know, I'm excited too, it seems like it's been forever since we've seen the twins together. I promised them I'd make all their favorites this year. Are you still making your legendary pasta sauce?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I am. Wouldn't be an Anello family dinner without it. I'll get started just as soon as I'm done child-proofing the living room. Nothing ruins Thanksgiving dinner like having to drive one of your grandkids to the hospital. "

"Thank you, my dear." She chuckled softly. Calogero took her hand and kissed it before heading back to the living room.

"Thank **_you_**."

He settled back down on the sofa in front of the TV and resumed clearing off the coffee table and moving all of the glass and ceramic figurines to the china cabinet on the opposite side of the room. Almost right away he became distracted by the assortment of family photos sitting on the glass shelves in the cabinet, most of them were in color, but some of them in black and white. Photos of his parents, his own children when they were in elementary school, himself standing outside of his shop, a portrait of Jane when she graduated from nursing school, and one faded photograph of his grandparents before they left Sicily in the 1920's. Generations of the Anello family line sitting side by side in one room. It was like staring at a timeline of his very existence.

Jane started washing vegetables in the kitchen sink and Calogero suddenly felt like it was just too quiet and needed some white noise. He walked over to the sound system against the wall in the dining room, turned it on, and pressed 'play'. It had been several months since he had turned it on and he couldn't remember what was the last CD he'd played. Immediately the room became filled with soft jazz music; the familiar sound of a grand piano coupled with alto saxophones. He closed and his and suddenly transported to another time in another place. It had been many years since he'd first heard this song on his father's bus. He remembered how he had complained about it to his father, Lorenzo.

_Dad, do we have to listen to this music? It gives me a headache. _

It was true, he hadn't really been a huge fan of jazz music as a teen. Like a lot of teenagers, he couldn't stand music that didn't have lyrics to it, and the sound of the saxophone sounded like someone whining. But on that day during his seventeenth year, he had become a convert and never complained about jazz music again, because this was the song that had been playing the day his life would change forever; the day he first laid his eyes on the pretty girl who would occupy his mind and his heart for months, and eventually years to come.

It was Jane's song.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 is here! Thanks to everyone who reached out to me about the first chapter, I'm really trying my best to do the story justice to the movie while adding my original ideas to it. As you'll be able to tell I took some liberties with one major event in the movie just to keep things interesting. I wrote this chapter while I was at work so I'm not 100% proud of it but I did my best. Please read and review!**

**Fall-1968**

It was the beginning of November, a few months into his junior year. Calogero was sitting near the back of his algebra class, Mr. Glenn's monotone voice fading in and out in his mind. He glanced down at the open page of his notebook, the top half of the page covered in the algebraic figures that were written on the blackboard and the bottom half scattered with his doodles and scribbling. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He rolled his eyes up to look at the clock just above the classroom door, 3:00PM could not come fast enough.

It had been a few weeks since that tragic night when he had lost his closest friends in that car blaze. The image of their charred remains was still fresh in his mind. He could still see them sitting at their empty desks in his row. He could still hear Mario's voice:

**_Hey Cee, we're cutting class tomorrow to hang out at the Deuces, you coming?_**

Suddenly he could hear Sonny's voice right after and the advice he had given him just the day before:

**_Fuck those kids, half of them are going to end up either dead or in jail._**

Sonny had been right the whole time. Calogero had wanted so badly to try and convince him that his "jerk off" friends were his true friends and had his back. That Sonny had them all wrong and just didn't understand. But had it not been for him grabbing him from that car that night, he would not be sitting here in this desk right now, bored out of his mind but alive.

He had ran to Chez Bippy's right away to tell Sonny what had happened, to tell him that he had been right, to thank him for saving his life. The bar was packed that night, loud with music playing, people shouting to each other, and glasses clinking. Calogero had been out of breath from running so fast, and was so hysterical that it took him a moment to realize he wasn't even making scene.

**_"What? Cee, I can't hear you! Kid, what's the matter, why are you shaking? I can't understand you, just calm down and talk to me!"_**

**_"I was there, I was right there Sonny. There was Jane's brother and the fellas, they were in the car but there was a fire and they're dead, they're gone Sonny. You were right! You saved my life Sonny, I'm sorry about your car. I swear I didn't do anything to it, I swear. But you saved my life, I was in the car and everything!"_**

He couldn't be himself to cry until later that night after he'd gotten home and broke the news to his parents. The guys may not have been the best people in the world, or the smartest, they had been prejudiced and had probably sealed their own fates, but they were still the ones who knew him best. When it came time to attend the memorial service for his friends he found it hard to face their parents. Slick, Mario and the others may not have been the best influences in his life, but they had been his friends since childhood. They had spent a lot of fun times together; cutting class to smoke and hang out at the Deuces Wild, hitting on girls, cracking jokes, and joy riding with the radio blasting. They made him laugh, they were like brothers to him, and now they were gone. After his friends had been laid to rest, Calogero's parents had given him permission to stay home for a few days so he could mourn the loss of his friends. He'd mostly spent this mourning period lying in bed and moping around the house. The only people he wanted to go out and see were gone, where was he supposed to go?

By the end of that first week his father had come into his room and sat down at the end of his son's bed.

**_"I'm sorry, son. I know you're still hurting right now. I'm not going to lie to you the next couple of weeks aren't going to be easy for you. But you know the best thing you can do to honor your friends is to get back out there and move on with your life. You remember the good times you had together, you pray for them, ask for God to have mercy on their souls, but staying locked up in your room isn't going to do any good. You have to stay strong, my son."_**

The sound of the school bell ringing jolted Calogero back to reality and a wave of relief passed over him.

He waited for the rest of his class to file out the door and into the hall before he grabbed his books and got to his feet. He had barely made it to the door before his teacher stopped him.

"Oh, Mr. Anello, perfect timing. I need to speak to you for a moment. It's about your last test score."

"My test score?"

Mr. Glenn shuffled through some of the papers on his desk before he found the one he was looking for and handed it to his pupil.

Calogero eyed the big -68 written in red ink at the top of the page. He felt like he should be more upset but somehow it just didn't seem to matter right now. He spaced out again as Mr. Glenn attempted to explain his situation.

"Now I know you've been going through a hard time these last few weeks, Anello, and I know you're smarter than this, so I'm going to give you a chance to bring up your grade. I'll give you a re-test at the end of next week. If you pass, it'll bring you up to a C."

**_"You gotta get two educations, C; one from the streets and one in school."_**

"Thanks a lot, Mr. Glenn. I'll think about it."

He folded the test up and put it in his pocket before picking up his books and walking into the bustling hallway. Had he bothered to turn around he might've been amused by Mr. Glenn's mouth hanging wide open at his pupil's final remark.

**Later that night**

Calogero had his first kiss at the age of seven; a girl from his church named Gina Cerillo. It was at a church picnic at they had been part of a group of kids playing catch in the park. Calogero had missed one catch and when he went to go after it Gina had snatched it up first, and refused to give it back until he kissed her. It had been nice, he wouldn't deny it. But this…this was something entirely different.

Earlier that evening he had picked up Jane (in Sonny's car of course) to take her for a drive. He had been looking forward to it all day. They rode around for a bit, listening to the radio, talking and laughing. They'd discovered that Jane preferred Dean Martin's voice and Calogero preferred James Brown's dancing. The sun had set about an hour ago, and he finally opted to drive her back home, or at least as close to her home as he could get. He drove up to the cross street just before her block, Webster Avenue, underneath the viaduct, which had become their meeting place. He parked the car and turned off the engine, but neither of them got out. Instead he leaned over to kiss her, and she kissed back with the pair of soft and full lips he had been waiting for all day long. They had been going at it for a few minutes now, with Calogero stopping every few moments to stroke and caress her cheek. Even in the darkness he could still make out her big smile.

She was beautiful.

Spending time with her had given him a healthy distraction these past few weeks, something to look forward to with anxious excitement. It had been difficult at first after his friends had perished that tragic night. The tension at their school between the black students and the white students had become even more intense in the days that followed, so he and Jane had to be careful about approaching each other when their classmates could see them. But he had meant what he told her that night; he wanted to be with her and didn't care what anyone else had to say.

She was good for him, and they always knew how to make each other smile. Not only that but she was very smart and had grades good enough to make the honor roll. But most of all he felt like he could be himself around her, and didn't feel embarrassed to tell her what was weighing on his heart. And right now in this very moment, sitting in this parked car on this empty street, kissing Jane was a moment of absolute bliss; a world where no one existed but the two of them, and he never wanted it to end. It was Jane who finally pulled away first.

"You know you still haven't answered my question," she said in a serious tone.

"What was the question?"

"What are you going to do about your algebra grade?"

"I already told you, he's letting me re-take the test next week." Calogero attempted to close the space between them again, but Jane moved just in time so that his lips met air.

"You know what I mean, are you actually going to study this time?"

"Jane, I told you it's fine. I go retake the test, I pass. It's not a big deal." He was stroking the back of her hand now, hoping the physical contact would make her get off his case. It didn't.

"Calogero."

Unlike his friends, Jane still refused to call him by his nickname, and instead insisted on calling him by his full name. He both loved it and hated it at the same time. He heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back in the driver's seat.

"Okay okay, you win. I promise I'll do my best this time. I'll do it for you, and to keep my dad off my back."

Jane flashed him another smile and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Good. You know you're much smarter than you think you are."

"Oh yeah?" he said, starting to lean in her direction again. "Maybe you and I should study together then."

"Sure," she replied, letting him zone in on her lips. "But you know that means you'd have to actually go to the library with me, right?"

Calogero immediately gave a disgusted groan and slumped back in his seat, making Jane erupt with laughter. She lifted the button on the passenger side door and got out, and he followed her lead. She held out her hand to him as he came around the car and took it once he stepped onto the curb. They walked hand in hand until they were standing directly beneath the viaduct shrouding them again in almost complete darkness, one solo street lamp illuminating the sidewalk just a few feet away.

Calogero slowly slid an arm around Jane's waist and she responded by joining her hands behind his neck. Their foreheads touched and they stood like that, the distant sounds of cars passing and people shouting to each other faded into the night.

Why couldn't like stay like this forever?

She closed her eyes and brushed her cheek against his, and he knew she was thinking the exact same thing.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked softly.

Jane slowly moved her hands to grip the lapels of his jacket and shook her head sadly.

"No, I can't tomorrow."

"What's the matter, you ashamed to be seen with me in the daylight?"

"No, of course not!"

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

Jane sighed and continued to tug thoughtfully at his lapels. "Have you told your parents about us yet?"

"No" he said weakly. "Not yet. What about your folks?"

Jane shook her head sadly. "No, just my brother, Willie. But I made him promise not to say anything. I think he's still scared for me. You know, after everything. . ."

Calogero could just imagine what her brother must've been thinking; it couldn't have been easy for him seeing his sister go out with the Italian who was friends with the same wannabe thugs who had nearly beaten him to death the first place. He didn't blame him at all.

"He'll come around eventually. They all will one day, you'll see."

"Well I guess if you pass that algebra test, anything is possible."

Calogero wanted to get mad at her for teasing him like that during such a serious conversation. But as he listened to Jane laughing at her own joke, he just couldn't bring himself to it. He just chuckled and pulled her in close for another kiss.

"Let's go to the park on Wednesday night. We'll walk together," he requested.

"Okay." Jane relented. "Good night, Calogero."

"Good night, Jane." He gently kissed her one last time, taking her hands in his.

They continued to grip each other's hands as Jane started to slowly move away in the direction towards her home, and he didn't let go until the last possible moment. She gave him one last little wave as she hurried across the street onto Webster Avenue, another street lamp lighting the corner that lead up to her block. Calogero's eyes stayed on her as she walked up Jane's street, and he didn't dare turn his back until her silhouette had completely disappeared from view.

**What do you think? I'm going to continue to jump back and forth between the past and the present but what I haven't made up my mind on is whether or not I'm going to specifically have chapters where Calogero is narrating from his own point of view (like in the movie). I guess I'll figure it out soon. Chapter 3 will be up soon, thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Today marks the 26th anniversary of the debut of 'A Bronx Tale' in theaters!**

** As tribute I'm releasing another chapter! I may add on to it later because I originally wanted this to be longer. I hope you guys like it, please like/review and if you'd so please, follow this story. I have some break time coming up so I should be able to update more frequently. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Thanksgiving Day-2019**

Calogero wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he finally finished setting up the chairs around the dining room table. It had taken him three trips up to the attic to bring down the leaf for the table and the two spare wooden chairs, but as this was a special occasion, it was well worth the labor. He promptly moved over to the entertainment center in the corner and turned the radio on to his favorite jazz station, adjusting the volume so that it was low but audible. He took a step back and proudly admired the scene before him. He and Jane had spent the entire week preparing for this night; everything from the furniture and the food to the tiniest details in the Fall-themed décor. They spared no time or expense in assuring that their home resembled a page out of Martha Stewart Living. As the upbeat jazz music continued to fill the living room and dining room, Calogero found himself getting lost in the music; the sound alto saxophone generating memories from his youth, as it always did.

'_You kids today don't know what good music is, this is real music right here,' his father had once chided him. _

He stared at the pumpkin and leaf centerpiece in the middle of the table, recalling the time in his youth when he couldn't stand the sound of jazz music, insisting that the sound of the saxophone sounded like "a man begging". Ironically it was this very same music that had set the mood for so many memories in his life, both sad and happy. He couldn't help but chuckle as he wondered what his father would say if he could see him right now, reminiscing to John Coltrane.

'_What did I tell ya, kid? This is good stuff right here. This is classic, they don't make music like this anymore.'_

"Calogero? Calogero, what are you doing?" Jane called from the kitchen. "The kids just pulled up! Get the door, I've still got my head in this oven!"

Calogero quickly snapped back to the present at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Okay, I'm moving, I'm moving!"

He maneuvered his way around the dining room and through the living room to the front door, giving himself one last check in the mirror before opening the door. No sooner had he opened the door when he saw the two small figures stampeding up the driveway.

"Who's that out here making all this noise?" he called to them.

"Nonno! Nonno, we're here!"

Calogero beamed as he stooped down to let his beautiful grandchildren run into his opened arms. He squeezed them tight and gave them both a hard kiss on the cheek as they clamored for his attention.

"Nonno, did you see? Daddy let me drive the car down the street!"

"Oh, did he now?"

"Nonno, I drew a picture of you and Nonna. Wanna see?"

"You did? Thank you so much, sweetheart, I can't wait to see it."

He took the rainbow colored turkey from his 5-year-old granddaughter Bianca, and swooped her up and held her to his chest with one arm. His 7-year-old grandson Anthony, or "Tony" as his family called him, had rushed past him and was standing on the porch excitedly doing a bizarre dance.

"Nonno, you wanna see me do The Floss dance?"

"Kids, relax, there's plenty of time for you to exhaust your grandfather after dinner."

Calogero turned his attention now to his lovely daughter, Anita. She shuffled the grocery bags in her arms around as she smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Hey, Daddy. Happy Thanksgiving, Cee's right behind me."

"Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart. Your mom is in the kitchen finishing up. Take the kids inside, will you?"

He set his granddaughter down and watched the three of them enter the house as he waited for his only son and his wife Pamela to make their way up the driveway with their army of suitcases. His daughter-in-law made it to him first.

"Hey, Dad, sorry we're a little late," she said, giving him a little hug. She looked exhausted and there was a twinge of irritation in her voice.

"That's alright, honey. I'll grab the bags, just go on in and rest for a minute."

She gave him a small grin of gratitude and she set two suitcases at the foot of the stairs and made her way inside. Had she and his son gotten in another fight? He was sure they'd find out before the end of the night.

"Hey, Dad, good to see you. You look good."

Calogero finally laid eyes on his son Calogero III, nicknamed " C", who also looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep. C was tall and handsome, the spitting image of his father in his youth, with big brown eyes and had even inherited the birthmark over his upper lip. The only real difference was his son's tanned skin and full lips, traits of course he'd picked up from his mother's side. Calogero looked at his son long and hard before giving his shoulder a hard squeeze. C smiled and gave a grateful sigh as his father pulled him into a tight embrace.

"It's good to see you too, son."

After the family had all said their greetings and gotten settled in, Jane and Anita made the announcement that dinner was ready and it was time for everyone to take their place at the dining room table. Jane, Anita and Calogero began bringing hot plates of dishes of food out of the kitchen into the dining room; a giant, well-prepared Butterball turkey surrounded by a beautiful assortment of traditional Italian cuisine and soul food.

Once all the food had been set on the table and everyone else had taken their seats, Calogero took his place at the head of the table, with Jane settling on his right hand side.

"Everyone ready?" Jane asked, glancing around the table. "C, why don't you do the honors?" She said, grabbing her son's arm next to her.

C nodded and gestured for everyone to hold hands and bow their heads.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen."

After grace was said the Anello's wasted no time in filling their plates; spoonfuls of baked ziti with meatballs and gnocchi and collard greens and macaroni and cheese made their way around the table. Calogero made sure to make a big production out of carving the turkey, initially holding the cutting knife with both hands as though it were a hatchet and pretending to try to hack off a turkey leg. While everyone else was laughing Jane reached over and attempted to take the knife away from him.

"Will you stop that?! I spent all day on that turkey, and if you make a mess I'm putting you outside!"

Calogero shrugged, "I'm sorry everyone, I tried. Her Highness wants me to show her bird some respect." He proceeded to delicately slice the turkey as if he was performing major surgery, gently placing thin slices of meat on everyone's plates, making his grandkids giggle while his wife just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

After everyone had had a few mouthfuls of food, Anita piped up.

"I love what you've done with the house, Mom. I see you're still a fan of Better Homes and Gardens."

Jane nodded as she took another bite of ziti, "Not just me, your father likes them too. It was his idea to put together this pumpkin center piece. And you know he's still kicking me out of my own kitchen every other week."

Calogero finished his bite of turkey, "What can I tell you? I can't have the guys down at the shop thinking my wife does all the cooking, can I? I have a reputation to keep up."

C took a sip of his punch, "You've always been able to throw down in the kitchen, Pop. You still make the best ziti sauce I've ever tasted."

Calogero had to suppress the urge to gloat about his homemade ziti sauce, "It's just a gift, its nothing."

Suddenly his granddaughter Bianca tugged on her mother's sleeve and whispered something in her ear. Pam nodded and suddenly reached into her purse that was handing on her chair and pulled out a piece of paper which she handed to her daughter.

"Speaking of special talents. . .Bianca has something for you."

Bianca hopped up out of her chair and went over to her grandparents. She stood between them and proudly held up her drawing.

"I drew a picture of Nonno and Nonna at school. I think it's pretty!"

Jane gently took the drawing and held it up in front of her. "You drew this all by yourself, baby? It's beautiful. Can we keep this?"

Bianca nodded as he grandmother gave her a kiss and handed the drawing over to Calogero to admire. It appeared to be a crayon drawing of him and Jane standing in a field of grass, holding hands. He couldn't help but smile at how his granddaughter was sharp enough to notice the difference in his and Jane's complexions, and had used a noticeably darker shade of brown when drawing Jane.

"This is a very good portrait, Bibi. You know I was almost 12-years-old before I could draw this well."

C looked from Bianca to Tony as he ruffled his son's hair. "It's like you always told us growing up, the saddest thing in life is wasted talent, right Pop?"

Calogero was still staring at the child's drawing in his hands, his father's words echoing in his mind.

"That's exactly right, son."


End file.
